


Two of Wands

by Canaan



Series: Major Arcana [15]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: AU, Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canaan/pseuds/Canaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, those sparks from the console aren't just for show. After a crash landing, Team TARDIS can't afford to be choosy about dealing with the local culture. But they really wish they could.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you're not familiar with it, this is set in my Major Arcana AU, in which the Doctor did not regenerate after tPotW and he, Rose, and Jack are still traveling together. Set sometime after "To Please" in that series. Written for Robin C., who won me in the Support Stacie author auction! Thank you for your very generous donation!

It was one thing to be naked at home, in a bedroom, with her partners. This . . . this was different, no matter how much Jack said it didn't matter, it was just skin. It wasn't her clothes they were taking; it was her dignity.

Rose favoured the aliens and their spears with a glare that could have curdled milk as she removed her clothing. They were varying shades of blue and violet under remarkably plain jumpsuits, and their skins were covered in something that looked faintly fuzzy, much the way velvet did. Jack had called it "pettable" shortly before they'd been seized and carted away. Rose had called them "swollen-headed" when she and Jack had been ordered to strip--the tops of their heads did, in fact, swell out beyond their ears and go up a considerable ways, like the top of a muffin. She wasn't sure if it was that or her refusal to remove her clothing that had gotten her stuck with a spear, but the thing had delivered enough charge to flatten her and make her lose a couple of minutes.

When she knew where she was again (as much as _any_ of them knew where they were), Jack was kneeling protectively over her, suggesting that her skin was lovely, the room was warm, and they were more likely to make any escape naked than with him carrying her. She knew he'd try, too, and those spears had a wicked bite. So she and Jack folded their clothing neatly and left it in a pile on the floor. She stopped at her bra and knickers, folding her arms across her chest and trying to convince herself the heat in her face was anger, not embarrassment.

"Continue," one of the guards said. He sounded bored and forcedly patient, as if he were talking to a particularly slow child.

***

  
 _Rose had never been so glad to land on her bum in her whole life. She skinned her elbow on the console room's grating and that was okay, too, as long as they were materialized somewhere--anywhere--on solid ground and in one piece. She wondered, vaguely, just how bad that crash had looked from the outside. Not that the Doctor would ever admit they'd crashed._ If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it's probably a duck. __

 _She wondered if there were ducks on this planet. Always assuming they were on a planet._

 _Jack groaned melodramatically. "Not that I don't like a rough ride, but that can't have been any fun for the TARDIS."_

 _Rose sat up to find him clambering to his knees while the Doctor was standing--still or again, she wasn't sure which--over one of the console's displays. "Yeah. What's wrong with her, Doctor?"_

 _He pressed a couple of buttons and stared glumly at a set of read-outs. He even flicked them with his fingertip a couple of times, like it would make something change. "The polylobate chronotic equalizer's gone," he said, darkly. "Have to take a look, but I'll be surprised if there's enough intact to repair. That wasn't just any rough landin'--the TARDIS was operating on emergency protocols, headin' to the nearest time and place likely to have replacement parts. Or somethin' we can fashion into replacement parts." He was silent a moment, which was its own kind of bad sign, and stroked a bit of the console bare of dials and switches. "Hope she managed somewhere good enough." Rose's stomach sank to somewhere around her knees._

 _Jack stood. "Tough replacement?" he asked._

 _The Doctor stared distractedly off into space. "What? Oh, no. Nothin' I can't make for the TARDIS, given enough time. And, well, certain raw materials. But we can get those anywhere, mostly. Except . . . well, the chullunath slurry's a bit difficult to manufacture. But as long as she's got us to a place with at least a level six technology threshold, we'll be just fine."_

 _Rose looked at Jack. "That mean anything to you?" she asked._

 _Jack was frowning. "Not entirely, but I get the feeling we can't afford to be choosey."_

 _Rose sighed. "Right, then. You two are goin' to go look under the bonnet; I'll get my coat."_

***

  
Jack groaned and looked longingly at the low cushion occupying most of the cell's floor, but he stood beside Rose while the guards activated the force grid that sealed this cell off from the hallway. "Sonic showers are not my favorite thing," he said, "but that's because they lack a certain sybaritic, well . . . anything sybaritic, I guess. I didn't know you could turn one up so high it made your eyeballs feel like runny eggs."

"'s ridiculous," Rose seethed. Her arms hung stiffly at her sides, as if she'd like to cover herself with them but refused to show anything that might look like weakness in front of their captors. "We didn't _do_ anything. Why arrest us? An' why put us through _this_?"

Jack wasn't sure if "this" was the nudity, the general treatment, or the cleansing that left his teeth aching and his cells feeling like they might rattle apart. He shrugged. "No idea. We'll either figure it out and get out of here, or the Doctor'll turn up and tell us we stepped on the sacred flower of their highest holy personage or something. Might as well try to get comfortable in the meantime." There were no guards in the hall, no one for him to try to con or persuade. Nothing but a force grid he couldn't argue with, not even with his hold-out laser.

"I'll feel nakeder sitting down," Rose muttered.

Usually, the thought of naked Rose with her legs sprawled apart on a bed was a delightful mental image, but her dignity was bruised and the parts of Jack that usually responded to delightful mental images felt about the same. There was no cover in the cell, not unless they hid under the cushion--and if her joints felt anything like Jack's did after their stroll through the sonic shower room, lying on the hard floor was somewhere near the bottom of her list of things to do just now. He thought about it for a minute and nudged her toward the cushion. "Lie down next to the wall," he offered. "I'll lie on this side. Best I can do for you, sweetheart--you know it doesn't bother me."

Rose made a rude noise, but surrendered, walking unsteadily toward the cushion. "Never wanted to be part of one of your stories where you end up naked," she said. As jokes went, it was weak, but at least she was trying.

There was no graceful way to get down on the cushion. Jack stood between her and the force grid. At least the hallway was empty when she glanced over her shoulder to check. She walked into the cushion and sat, and then lay down.

Jack chuckled. "There's always a silver lining," he said, kneeling and then crawling onto the cushion beside her. He rolled onto his side and draped an arm over her ribs. "Look at it this way: How often do we get to have a nice lie-in without the Doctor wanting us to get up so we can be off somewhere?" That remark really called for a nicely-timed feel of a gorgeous breast, but Rose didn't need that kind of reminder right now.

"There is that," she muttered, but her heart wasn't in it. After a minute she sighed and rolled toward him, letting him hold her close. "They've left us nothing to use on that force grid," she whispered, "and the rest of the cell looks solid. Can you think of anythin' more clever than waitin' for the Doctor to rescue us?"

Jack stroked her back, soothingly, and tried to sound carefree. "Not a thing," he said.

***

  
The first time the muffin-headed aliens came by to gawk at them, Rose wanted to die on the spot. "You've put the two of them together?" the taller alien asked. "Aren't you worried they'll procreate?"

The TARDIS rendered him as a bloke with a posh accent. It made it easier to be less embarrassed and more angry. "Oi!" she complained from behind the sheltering breadth of Jack's chest and hips. "Would _you_ want to 'procreate' in a room with a glass wall?"

It was like he couldn't hear her, though she knew the force screen didn't block sound. "Someone's fitted the male with a prophylactic implant," the shorter one said. "Though I can't see why--the pair appear to be in fine health."

Jack, damn his eyes, was laughing silently as the pair wandered off. " _What?_ " she snapped.

He kissed her lips and then her cheek. "That's the Rose I fell in love with," he said.

Another pair came by a bit later. A woman and a man, by the sound of them. They didn't really stop, only walked slowly by as the man explained, "They appear to have some affection for each other. It seemed cruel to separate them."

"Affection?" Rose hissed. "For my . . . my . . . " God, she hated that. "Boyfriend" sounded so adolescent and "partner" didn't always seem adequate. "Man" was just awful--especially since it was usually in the context of "men," and it always made her think of the time she'd been kidnapped into a harem on Tuleeq.

"You know, you're cute when you stammer," Jack said. She swatted his hip.

Time passed slowly. Jack told scandalous stories to amuse her. She told fairy tales in return, surprised as always by the holes in his understanding of the twenty-first century.

By the time the third pair came by, Rose was beginning to recognize one of the muffin-heads. He seemed to work here, and she rather thought that jumpsuit was some kind of a uniform. "We'll hold them for a week to see if the owner claims them, of course. But they're strong and healthy, despite the lack of proper pelts--that's normal for them. We'd really prefer to see them go as a set . . . "

Rose felt cold despite the warm air in the cell. When the aliens were well gone, she whispered, "Jack . . . are we meant to be _slaves_ , then?"

He hesitated. She felt it in his body, as he tried to decide whether to lie to her. "It won't come to that, sweetheart. Do you really think it could _possibly_ take the Doctor a week to find us?"

She shivered in his arms, not comforted.

***

  
 _It was the kind of civilization the Doctor hated: orderly, peaceful, and dull. He was sure they aspired to lofty enterprises and felt themselves the pinnacle of sapient evolution. A lot like home, it was, only less colourful._

 _"What kind of race paints all their buildings beige?" Rose complained._

 _"I don't think it's paint," Jack said, thoughtfully. "I think that's the color of the building material." He scratched the side of the information kiosk. "Huh. Not a resin. Not a concretion. I wonder if it's that color naturally or if they add it to the--"_

 _"Putty," Rose complained. "It looks like putty."_

 _The Doctor scowled at the information kiosk's screen. The well-ordered information very carefully kept him away from anything he actually needed to know. He aimed his sonic screwdriver at it. "Most advanced cultures go through an ascetic period where the mind is valued above the body, Rose. Architecture tends to become minimalist and functional . . . " That did it. There couldn't be more than one or two facilities on the planet capable of manufacturing the chullunath slurry; he could track them down based on their consumption of certain rare raw materials._

 _"And bland," Rose summarized._

 _He looked up from the screen for a second, grinning. "Got a way with words, you have." He poked through geological maps, shipping details, and business records. "Aha! We're in luck. There are two major plants on the planet that can do a chullunath slurry. One of 'em's got an office nearby. Probably have to be a custom order. May take a couple of days."_

 _Rose pulled a face. Jack wrapped an arm around her waist. "Come on, Rose, it's not like we're not good at keeping ourselves entertained."_

 _She ignored his leer. "You're goin' to go order custom something-or-other. What other parts d'you need?" The Doctor stared at her. Since when did Rose care about TARDIS parts? "It's not like it's goin' to mean anything to me, but Jack'll understand." She elbowed their partner, who obligingly complained, "Hey!" Rose shrugged and went on. "Get that thing to give us a location for the right kind of market and we can be lookin' for the other parts." She sighed. "Never thought there'd be a day when shoppin' for TARDIS parts sounded more interestin' than anything else I could be doin'."_

 _"Oi!" the Doctor said as he got the kiosk to give him a directory. "What's not interesting about TARDIS parts?"_

 _"If you can't wear it and you can't eat it, it's mostly not interesting to Rose," Jack said. It got him another elbow in the ribs and a look that could have melted glass._

 _"I'd be more polite if I were you," the Doctor said dryly. "You're the one that's goin' to be spendin' the afternoon with her."_

***

  
Jack wasn't sure how much time passed before a slender sapient floated a trolley up in front of their cell and stopped there. "Well aren't you two sweet," the woman crooned.

It was a tone of voice people used when they talked to babies, but it was more interaction than they'd had with their captors all day. Rose stiffened. Jack fought the urge to walk over to the force grid and chat the woman up. He rolled to face her instead, letting Rose hide herself against his back. "'Sweet' isn't a word I've heard before," he told her, "but if it makes you happy, I'm willing to try it on for size." He smiled.

"Jack," Rose said, tartly.

He ignored it, watching the woman outside the cell. "Such a good boy," she soothed, unpacking boxes from inside the trolley. "And your little friend--isn't she just lovely? I can't imagine why anyone would have abandoned you this way." She set two boxes on the floor, shoving them at the force screen. Jack watched with interest as they passed right through it.

"We weren't abandoned," Rose growled. "We were looking for supplies. Ship's crew. Do that sometimes, you know?"

The woman clucked her tongue and pressed some trolley control that Jack couldn't see. "Never you fear," she said, warmly. "If your owner doesn't take better care of you, we'll see to it you're placed in a good home." There had to be some kind of key, either embedded in the boxes or part of their structure, itself, that let them through the force grid. Jack couldn't wait for her to leave so he could inspect those boxes and see if it was something he could re-purpose to get them out of the cell. "I swear," she murmured to herself as she started the trolley moving again, "sometimes it's the _people_ that need to be in the cages."

Jack watched her go. He'd already drawn a leg up to scramble across the cell when he felt a strange dampness on the back of his shoulder. He rolled back to Rose and saw her trying to dash the tears away. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

She swallowed hard. "Jack--we're not in a jail. We're in the animal shelter."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of Robin C.'s SSA fic. Beta'd by Aibhinn. Disclaimer: They're not mine; I'm just haunted by them.

The shop was clean, well-ordered, and--in Rose's words--bland. It did precision machining in certain demi-organic alloys that would make replacing the equalizer's housing much easier. There were a number of pieces physically on display, in addition to the computers which allowed for custom design processes. The Doctor waited for a remark from Jack about nice parts, or a complaint from Rose about boys and cars.

Instead, his partners entered silently behind him. Rose oozed fury so strongly he was picking it up without any visual or physical contact, and Jack was making an effort not to attract attention. It might even have worked, except an alarm went off before they'd come ten feet into the shop. The man behind the counter glared at him as he swatted at a button and the noise and flashing light stopped. "Oi! You can't bring them in here. Class two sentients. They'll be leavin' fingerprints all over precision materials!"

Rose made a smothered sound of outrage. The Doctor crossed the shop in a few short strides. The entire planet had been winding him up since they landed here; by now, he was far too happy to have someone to take it out on. "They're _my_ class two sentients, and they can hear you."

The shopkeeper made a rude noise. "They barely have the capacity for abstract thought!"

 _They still feel, you moronic clod._ "Ever consider how idiotic it is to judge sentients that way? You call yourself a class four sentient and assume you're at the top of things. What'll you do if you ever meet a class seven sentient? And while you're thinkin' about it, why don't you decide whether they can be in here with me, or we all three walk out of here and I take my business elsewhere?"

The Doctor watched expressions flit across the other man's face as he worked on that one. The species might change, but merchants seemed to have some things in common most places he'd been in the universe. "You can't do that. No one else in Thuralia can fabricate to the kind of tolerances we can!"

The Doctor shrugged. "Can do it myself. It'll just take me longer." He started to turn toward the door.

"Wait!" The Doctor paused. The shopkeeper scowled at him. "If they stay, _you_ are responsible for their behavior."

 _Pity no one's responsible for_ yours _._ But it wasn't really fair to blame one man for the social failings of his entire culture. "Of course," the Doctor said, darkly. He didn't have to see Jack and Rose to feel their eyes on him.

The shopkeeper glanced over his shoulder at the two humans, then back at the Doctor. "All right. Then what can I help you with?"

Part--a large part--of the Doctor wanted to turn around and go right back out the door. But the best thing he could do for his partners right now was get them off this planet as fast as possible. That meant buying the housing, not fabricating it.

Maybe they'd even forgive him.

***

  
 _"Only pair of humans we've seen in here in months. We don't get many of them this far along the spiral arm."_

 _Jack was sitting on the edge of the cushion, alternately glaring at and puzzling over the food boxes the way he'd been for the last several hours. Rose sat up and drew her knees up in front of her, wrapping her arms around them. The pose concealed more than a bathing suit. If she just kept telling herself that, maybe she'd start to believe it. Jack belatedly started to scramble over to her and she shrugged. "'s all right," Rose told him. "Hope they don't want the boxes back."_

 _"There's got to be some kind of a proximity trigger," he complained. "They'll only pass the grid if the trolley's within three meters or something." He shoved the box he'd held in his lap halfway across the room._

 _"Here we are, then." It was the bloke that worked here. The black-clad form that followed him had seldom been a more welcome sight. "Are these yours?"_

 _"Doctor!" Rose shouted. She almost started to stand up, remembered her nakedness, and wrapped her arms around her knees again. "It took you long enough."_

 _"He was just giving us a chance to enjoy the local accommodations," Jack said, wryly._

 _The Doctor's eyes were fixed firmly on the officious alien. "I'll want them and everything they had on them when they were collected," he said, coldly._

 _"Of course," the muffin-head said. "We have a few forms to be filled out first, and they'll have to be tagged before we can release them into your custody. Really, if you'd just come through port properly in the first place, you could have taken care of all this in Customs and saved yourself a lot of--"_

 _"Tagged?" Rose and the Doctor snapped in unison._

 _The officious look the bloke gave the Doctor transcended species. "All class two and three sentients must be registered with Lariva's central authority."_

 _"Class two sentients?" Jack said, blankly._

 _"Tagged?" Rose repeated._

 _"You're not putting any 'tags' on _my_ class two sentients," the Doctor said. Rose was still too stunned even to bristle at the tone._

The muffin-head looked surprised. "The implants are tiny; they'll barely feel them."

"Oi! There's nothin' wrong with my hearing, and you're not implanting anything in me!" Rose said, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

He ignored her. "If you refuse to allow your pets to be tagged, we can issue you a license, but you'll have to keep them with you at _all times_. If they stray, they'll be picked up again, with mandatory tagging and a fine to be paid before you can claim them."

Daleks couldn't stand up to the Doctor's glare. What was it about bureaucrats that made them immune? "Issue the license," the Doctor growled. "Let them go. I'll fill out your forms. Give them their clothes and let them dress."

Rose let her head fall forward and looked down at her knees to hide the heat in her face. She'd never felt more naked than she did in that moment.

***

  
 _Jack could all but see the anger rolling off Rose in waves. They were dressed, they'd been released, and they'd immediately had to go find lodgings due to a curfew on class two sentients. Worse, not all lodgings_ accepted _class two sentients. By the time they found a place that would take them, the Oncoming Storm was ready to break upon the next hapless innkeeper to thwart them, and Rose . . . Well, Jack thought the "animal shelter" experience must have been way more scarring for her than for him, because she held her tongue clear up until they'd closed the door of their rented room behind them._

 _"Class two sentients!" The words burst from her lips. Jack tried to drape an arm over her shoulders, but she shrugged him off, looking around the room. "And what's this--servant's quarters?"_

 _They stood in an entryway where two bunks slid out from the wall. The doorway beyond provided access to the main room. Jack stepped past her and stuck his head into it to confirm his suspicions. One bed, large enough for maybe two sapients of a common height, plus the_ en suite _. Class two sentients probably had some kind of slide-out accommodation in the entryway. Behind him, the Doctor said, "Not exactly. Doesn't matter. You two're takin' the bed; I won't sleep, anyway. We can go back to the TARDIS in the morning."_

 _"And do what?" Rose demanded. "Wait around for somebody they think is a real person to finish finding the complicated parts so we can leave?"_

 _"It's not like that, Rose," the Doctor protested._

 _Jack turned around to find his lovers glaring at each other. An inauspicious end to a less-than-good day. "So what's it like, Doc?" he interjected. "What's up with this business of class two sentients? We're not slaves, we're--what?_

 _"Trained monkeys," Rose suggested, sourly. Jack moved back to her and took her hand, and this time, she let him. He tugged her into the main room and sat with her on the edge of the bed._

 _The Doctor drifted after them with his hands tucked into his pockets. "It's 2.3/petal/14 and the Dorlent Alliance has a four-stage classification of sentients right now."_

 _Jack groaned. "I knew this area was proscribed by the Time Agency during this that period. Now I know why."_

 _The Doctor went on. "The Murth, of course, consider themselves class four sentients." Rose made a rude noise, and Jack willed the Doctor to stop right there, because the more explanation they got, the angrier Rose was going to be. "Class three sentients have limited rights. Class two sentients have a legal status somewhere between slaves and pets."_

 _"And what are Time Lords?" Rose asked, darkly._

 _The Doctor sighed and sat down beside her. She turned her head so she could keep her eyes on him. He met her gaze. "It's an artificial system. Completely ridiculous. My neural structure's complex enough the Murth don't think to object. Does it matter? Just want to get the chullunath slurry so I can get us off this planet."_

 _"I'm in favor of that," Jack muttered._

 _"And what about the other class two sentients?" Rose asked. "Do we just leave them here, to be_ owned _?" Jack winced._

 _"What other class two sentients?" The Doctor sighed. "Rose, they see so few class two and three sentients here. Anybody with a choice and good taste stays away from the Dorlent Alliance in this time period."_

 _"How long will the chullunath slurry take?" Jack asked._

 _The Doctor's shoulders straightened a little with relief at the change of subject. "They've got a window for production startin' tomorrow morning. I still have to provide the precise specifications, but they think they can have a batch ready late in the evening. You two can stay on the TARDIS an' not have to deal with this foolishness." Jack watched Rose's spine stiffen at the Doctor's choice of words. The Time Lord was always a little high and mighty . . . it just wasn't usually this kind of a sore point. "We'll start rebuilding the polylobate chronotic equalizer while we're waiting," he went on. "Once we've got the slurry, we can probably be back in the Vortex within a couple of hours."_

 _"I'm not doin' it," Rose announced._

 _Jack and the Doctor looked at her where she sat between them with her jaw set. "Doing what?" Jack asked._

 _He'd seen steel alloys more flexible than their lover in that moment. "Going back to the TARDIS," she said._

 _"Rose, we're not going to get anything done here," Jack said. "We'd just be tagging along behind the Doctor. It'll be miserable."_

 _"Fine," Rose said. "_ You _go back to the TARDIS." The words struck him like a blow. "You can start doin' whatever bloke things it is you two do that'll make this equalizer run. 'm no good for that kind of thing anyway."_

 _"Rose . . . " the Doctor tried, his voice gentle._

 _She glared at him. "'m not leavin' you alone in this crazy place, Doctor! There might not be anything I can do, but I can keep you company and remind you not everybody's the kind of nutter they seem to specialize in around here."_

 _Jack waited for the counter-argument: the one where the Doctor was meant to beg, fool, or throw her back onto the TARDIS, no matter what she thought about it. "Right, then," the Doctor said, tiredly._

 _Rose was right: This place was no good for the Doctor, either. "I guess we're all staying," Jack muttered. But he_ really _wished she'd agreed to go back to the TARDIS with him._

***

  
She'd never thought of Jack's flirting as entertainment before, but Rose had to admit, it made the waiting around while the Doctor fed the manufacturers numbers and chemical formulae she didn't begin to understand more lively. Even if it raised her blood pressure a bit. "Jack," she said, darkly.

"What?" He grinned at her. "Can't I say hello?"

She pulled a face. "You've been sayin' hello for the last half hour."

"I think it's kind of cute," the woman at the desk said. "He tells charming stories and has pretty eyes. What's his tongue like?"

Jack blinked.

"Kantra, that's disgusting!" a woman at a nearby computer terminal hissed.

Rose felt like someone'd kicked her in the gut. She moved over to Jack and slid an arm around his waist. His went across her shoulders, but she barely noticed. "Spoken for," she grated. It figured--the first person to actually _talk_ to her on this stupid planet and she was trying to move in on their partner.

Kantra rolled her eyes at her co-worker. "You just don't know how to have fun," she accused, getting to her feet and starting toward the hallway the Doctor'd disappeared into. "I'm going to go ask if I can borrow him."

"Oi!" Rose said.

Rose wouldn't have guessed a woman's interest could ever dismay Jack, but his muscles were as tight as an over-stretched elastic band beneath her arm. "I . . . don't think that's a good idea," he started.

"It's bestiality, that's what it is!" the other Murth said, appalled. "Honestly, Kantra, they barely think!"

Rose started in, "We think plenty, and _I_ think--" She only just managed to cut herself as Jack squeezed her arm warningly. She didn't think this pair could get them . . . impounded . . . but she'd hate to be wrong. It wasn't worth going through that for the brainless, tactless git working the desk here.

The Murth never noticed. "They still _feel_ ," Kantra went on. She grinned. "And I'm far more interested in _feeling_ than in what he thinks." Now it was Rose's turn to give Jack a cautionary squeeze.

Footfalls from the hallway made her turn her head. She breathed a sigh of relief as the Doctor appeared. Unfortunately, the first words out of his mouth were, "What's all the fuss out here? They just sent me out to calm you lot down." There was concern in his eyes, but it didn't stop the words from slicing through her like a chill wind. It didn't help when he settled a hand on her shoulder and murmured, "Almost done here. Can you make it another ten minutes? Wouldn't ask, but this is the only place in this hemisphere that can do that slurry for us."

Rose wasn't sure if that tight feeling in her throat was anger or tears. Not only were they not helping by staying with him, she and Jack were actually a source of trouble just by being ( _class two sentients_ , the little voice in the back of her head whispered) themselves. And every time the Doctor played the role of owner, it stuck another knife in her chest.

She swallowed against the emotion, whatever it was. She could break down once they were home. Not before. "'Course we can," she said, quietly. "Can you please tell them to keep their grubby mitts off Jack? And when you're done here . . . " she found herself looking at the floor, "I'm ready to go back to the ship."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final part of Robin C.'ss SSA fic. Beta'd by Aibhinn. Disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just haunted by them.

Ironically, it wasn't the overt slights or the subtle jabs of the Murth in Thuralia that haunted Jack and left him fumble-fingered as he and the Doctor maneuvered the equalizer's new housing into position. It was Rose's summary: "trained monkeys." He _helped_ with the housing. He fastened the bracings of the different lobes and ran basic connections while the Doctor did a complete overhaul of the asynchronous temporal stabilization grid. Sometimes, he handed the Time Lord tools. It was the same division of labor as always . . . it just looked different, now.

"You all right?" The Doctor's question hung in air, echoing in a way that had nothing to do with the acoustics of the chamber.

It was like a disease, Jack thought, this notion that some sapients weren't really sapients at all. One of those primitive diseases that nothing cured, which ate at the body or the mind and left weak points behind that crumbled away beneath you. "Mostly," he said, cautiously. "The whole experience . . . plants this nagging doubt in the back of your brain, after a while. It's this little voice that says maybe I'm just a trained pair of hands and a convenient shag." The Doctor froze at the words and Jack went on quickly. "I know it's not so, but knowing doesn't stop the doubt. Give it some time." He put on a grin as his partner stared at him with blank eyes. "I've had some awkward moments with women," Jack joked, "but the one in that office beat all of them--including the moment when Rose realized her mother was hitting on me. I think I have no future as a sex toy. Which . . . surprised me, honestly."

The Doctor looked away. "I never wanted you there," he said, quietly. "Once I found out where we were. I wanted you out of it. Came out of a culture of superiority, me. Usually on the wrong end of it, too--genius, yeah, but one that couldn't toe the line, follow the rules, or meet the expectations." Jack found himself smirking as he pictured a young Doctor bringing home failing marks, and being unable to explain why. "And _you've_ got a strong sense of self, Jack" the Doctor added. "Rose hasn't had the time to develop that. I want to take her in my arms and tell her she's worth a hundred Murth with their exaggerated sense of self-importance. But coming from me, right now . . . She doesn't want to hear it, wouldn't believe it, and it might make things worse." His voice held a frustration usually reserved for otherwise-intelligent people who wouldn't admit he was _right_.

Which might cover the situation with Rose, too, actually. When they'd come back board the TARDIS, she'd made sure there was nothing she should be doing to help, pushed tea on both of them, and then made herself blessed hard to find. "I'll talk to her," Jack said. "When you go back out for the slurry."

The Doctor nodded. "Good," he said, absently. He seemed to remember what he was doing, then, and fiddled with another piece of the grid.

Jack watched for a minute, dwelling on an unfortunate bit of friendly fire from the machinist's shop. "So," he said casually. "Class seven sentient?"

The Time Lord didn't flinch. Maybe he'd seen that one coming. "Scale only goes to four, and it's a ridiculous socio-intellectual conceit."

Jack resisted the urge to tap his fingers against delicate circuitry. "And if it kept going?" he asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "Doesn't matter," he said, brusquely, and still wouldn't meet Jack's eyes.

Because somehow, today, it did.

***

  
The Doctor'd actually had to use a trolley to get that quantity of chullunath slurry back to the TARDIS. He could have used Jack's help getting it down to the anterior stabilizer room, but he was hoping Jack'd had better luck finding Rose on his own than the two of them had had together, and if they were finding some comfort in each other's company, he didn't want to disturb them. The Doctor couldn't begrudge them that human bond. No matter how quiet it was without them.

He was pretty sure he'd left a float pallet in Storage Seven. He left the containers of slurry sitting in the console room and started out in search of it. His own footsteps seemed louder in his ears than they usually did when he was traveling with a companion, and he'd done a fine job of working himself toward a morose mood when he heard Rose's voice coming from . . . _the cloister room? Why did she end up there, of all places? And why couldn't I find her?_ His feet slowed of their own accord as he neared the doorway.

"--so it's . . . what, like shagging the family dog? Every time he tells me I'm fantastic, is that like sayin' 'Good girl' and pattin' me on the head? God, Jack, I don't know what to think anymore!" Her voice was shrill and harsh as she raged.

The Doctor wasn't breathing, but that was okay. Respiratory bypass available, and all that. Sophisticated physiological adaptation. One more way he was alien to his partners.

He walked away. He could move the slurry by hand.

***

  
"You know he's better than that," Jack soothed.

Rose stopped pacing long enough to really look at him. Jack sat on a nearby bench, with sincerity in his face and voice and his shoulders hunched just a little. _He_ wants _to believe that,_ she thought. _But he doesn't_ know _it any more than I do. And I'm making things worse._ The thought leeched most of the anger out of her, and something vital seemed to go with it. Her knees went weak and she found herself sitting on the floor. "Is he?" she asked, rage seeping out of her throat, which seemed to swell up in its wake. "Is he just humouring us? Are we toys? Children? Pretty baubles? Is he so patient with the poor, dull humans because he won't have to put up with us long?" A sob took her by surprise. She grinned fiercely through it, trying to ignore the prickling feeling of tears in her eyes. "He's goin' to live practically forever."

Jack shrugged. He got up and came over, sitting down beside her. "So will I, he says."

Rose realized she'd done it again and groaned. "God, Jack, I'm sorry."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It's okay. I don't think he's like that--and you don't, either, most of the time. We both know plenty of humans smarter than us. They're still human. Time Lords are still sapients of about the same type--he's not some entirely different order of consciousness, like the TARDIS."

She sniffled and leaned her head on his shoulder. "We love him, and we don't even see all of who he is. He's got more senses--he told me, once. Knows there's no other Time Lords 'cause he'd just know. Some kind of telepathy thing. We're just . . . we're not like that. We can't _be_ that."

"And for all that, sometimes he can't see what's in front of him. You just said it, Rose--we love him. He's not the enemy. Don't let the Dorlent Alliance do that to you. You know better." She stiffened in his embrace until he said, "We both do," ruefully. "Three days ago, you knew he'd re-order planets around their sun for you. Nothing's changed."

 _Except us._ "It's hard to trust that, right now."

Jack's arm shifted under her head as he sighed. "I'll try if you will," he said.

***

  
Jack never did turn up to help with the final bits of work on the equalizer. When the Doctor went up to the console room to check the read-outs, he still hadn't seen either of his partners. He felt weary--a kind of fatigue he knew was all in his head and had nothing to do with his body. Which didn't change it. The readings on the equalizer were good, but he couldn't summon the impetus to send the TARDIS somewhere. He shrugged to himself and triggered dematerialization. They could stay in a holding pattern in the Vortex while he slept.

Not that he was looking forward to sleep. Not in the state he was in. But he wasn't getting anything done without it.

He'd actually opened the door before he realized he'd reflexively gone to _their_ room--the one they shared--rather than his own. Made sense, really--he hadn't slept in his own room in long enough, it just wasn't a habit. But Rose was hurt in some ways that took human comfort right now; waking up to a non-human in her bed might not have the best effect.

The idea of sleeping alone hadn't cut so keenly until he saw the alternative. Jack and Rose were twined around each other in bed, mussed with sleep and still smelling faintly of sex. The Doctor smiled a little, in spite of himself. He thought that, somewhere along the way, Jack had confused sex and comfort. Or maybe it wasn't confusing, if you were human--and the Doctor had had that comfort of the other man more than once, with the traces of nightmare and the Time War still seething at the edges of his mind.

"Oi!" Rose grumbled. "Enough lounging in the doorway. You goin' to stand there bein' all class four sentient, or you comin' to bed?"

The Doctor jerked a little as she spoke--he hadn't noticed her waking up. Behind her, Jack groaned a little and blinked. The Doctor swallowed. He stepped inside and closed the door. "Wasn't sure I was welcome," he said quietly.

" _We_ aren't the ones that couldn't look at _you_ in the animal shelter," she said. The Doctor looked away from them. "Like that," Rose added sourly, the sleep gone from her voice.

The Doctor found himself glaring at her. " _You_ try bein' made part of somethin' foul on account of your species, and then see how easy it is to look your partners in the eye."

Jack cleared his throat. "Rock. Hard place. We get it. We're all kind of there. Can we go back to not trusting each other _after_ we sleep?"

The Doctor and Rose broke eye-contact. "Sorry," she said.

He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off. "And I'm sorry you don't trust me right now," he said. "Besides time, I can only think of one way to fix that. And you wouldn't like it." He stood again and continued undressing as his partners watched.

"You superior enough to decide what I would and wouldn't like?" Rose asked.

He snorted. "Just been with you long enough to make a good guess." Jack smothered a snicker. Rose growled a little and elbowed him. The Doctor slipped under the bedclothes and lay close beside her, not quite touching. He automatically folded the superfluous duvet back over his lovers, the heat of them and the air in the room more than enough for him.

"So what is it?" Rose said.

The Doctor pulled a face. He'd been half-joking; it wasn't really something he wanted to do. "Telepathic, me. Could show you."

He was waiting for their instant denial and got silence, instead. Rose wasn't the sheltered girl who'd once been upset to learn the TARDIS was telepathic, and the Doctor had touched Jack's mind before. A few moments later, Rose said, "After everything we just went through, bein' told how little our minds are, you expect us to let you into them?"

The Doctor took a breath that was more about settling an entirely unfamiliar case of nerves than about breathing. He had an unsettling feeling of standing on the edge of some unseen cliff, and prepared to fling himself off it. "No," he murmured.

He wrapped an arm around both of them. Rose tensed in his arms as he drew them to him, leaning his forehead against hers in the same moment his fingers found the contact point at Jack's temple. Jack drew a surprised breath as Rose murmured a stunned little "Oh!" of understanding.

The Doctor opened the door for them.

***

  
Rose had the same sense of vast, echoing spaces and phenomenal age she usually associated with cathedrals as she stepped through the door into the Doctor's mind. The sheer scope of the mental landscape threw her off-balance, as if she'd fall over with nothing to hold her back. A soothing sense of Jack anchored her suddenly, as if he'd laid a hand on her shoulder. It gave her a sense of perspective, and she realized that not only did the landscape stretch out far beyond what she could see, it was filled with doors.

So many, many doors--some open, some closed. The closed ones were labeled with Galifreyan text that she somehow knew marked them as forbidden, and sorrow and pain clung to them. Some of them burned without being consumed. The open ones . . . The open ones held her and Jack. So many versions of her and Jack--memories and thoughts and futures and fears. She waded through a loneliness so strong it tugged at her knees like a current and brought tears to her eyes, but beyond and beneath that, she found love. Not the love you have for a pet or a child. A love so deep it ached.

He didn't see class two sentients when he looked at them, or even humans. _Just people,_ she thought, and felt an echo of it back from Jack. People the Time Lord loved, people who'd been hurt, and he couldn't protect them . . . could _never_ protect them, not enough. At the bottom of everything, beneath the terrifying nakedness of letting them into his mind this way, she found, like looking under the sofa and finding an old stain on the carpet, a quiet, heartbroken expectation that he'd lose them over this.

That was what started her sobbing. Not the closed spaces that held the Time War or the many, many companions before them or the fact that her mind could get lost in his. The _expectation_ of loss. The lack of hope. She put her real, physical arms around him even as she had a sense of slipping backwards, of bringing Jack with her as she disengaged. "Never," she whispered. "We're bigger than that. We love you, you daft fool."

"Definitely too stupid to be _that_ superior a being," Jack teased, gently. Rose felt him reach across her to tap the Doctor's shoulder. "Switch," he prompted. Rose let her head rest on the Doctor's shoulder and held still as he worked his arms around her and rolled her over him, onto the bed on the other side. She felt Jack's hand settle on her hip as he slid in behind the Doctor. "And I thought _we_ were having a miserable time back there."

"Oh, plenty of miserable to go around," the Doctor murmured.

Rose kissed him. "Although, if you ever find me in an animal shelter again and don't even _look_ at me, you'd better remember I know where you sleep," she said. Jack chuckled.

The Doctor was silent a moment. He said, "Was afraid if I looked at you, I was goin' to do somethin' rash. Then you'd still be there and I'd be in jail, and we'd be worse off than before."

"Not thinkin' about it," Rose said firmly, rescuing the duvet from the other half of the bed and pulling some of it over her. "There's too many brilliant things in the universe for me to waste any more time on that worthless excuse for an . . . alliance, you said?"

"Alliance," the Doctor agreed. "For about . . . mmm, a hundred and fifty years more, anyway."

"What happens then?" she asked.

He shrugged. "The Bodhian Fleet bumps into them. An entire nation of nomadic class two sentients. There's trade in some places, fighting in others, and a surprisingly high degree of biological compatibility."

"Biological compatibility?"

Jack laughed. "They interbreed," he realized.

Rose went up on one elbow to look over the Doctor's shoulder at him. "Even though the brain structure's meant to be that different?"

The Doctor tugged her back down. "Not much of a hurdle when the technology's advanced enough. How do you think you wind up with cat people in your own species' future?"

"Cat people?" Rose asked.

"Cat people," Jack said happily, his voice weighted with the anticipation of innuendo. " _Really_ flexible. Something about the way the spine and the hips are jointed . . . "

The bed shifted as the Doctor elbowed their lover. "Oi! You're far too delighted that sex is the answer," he complained.

Rose snickered. "Got to agree with Jack on this one, Doctor. I think poetic justice makes me feel better."

"Besides," Jack said, "Sex isn't the answer. Sex is the question." She squirmed a little as he squeezed her bum. "The answer is _yes_."


End file.
